


Familial Ties

by Nehasy



Category: Tenkuu no Escaflowne | The Vision of Escaflowne
Genre: Child Soldiers, Destiny is a Bitch, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Underage Drinking, Wartime Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 12:52:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19209823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nehasy/pseuds/Nehasy
Summary: The Dragonslayers enjoy a night of illicit drinking after hours and reminisce about their days before meeting their Captain.





	Familial Ties

**Author's Note:**

> This is a part of the Yearly Esca 2019 Pic and Fic challenge with the subject being Memories. I had a bunch of ideas bouncing around in my head and might still do a few of them for fun. Anyone who's read my previous fics knows of my love of the dragonslayers and exploring their pasts and how they interacted with each other outside of battle.
> 
> Set in the Dragon universe, this is pre series, back when the Dragonslayers had only been together for a few colours and were still getting to know each other.

            “I remember her eyes the most.”  Shesta murmured softly into the darkness, his voice echoing against the bare metal walls, lending his words a heavy gravity, causing the other youths to lean forward in anticipation.  “They’re the same colour of blue as the sea after a storm.”  He smiled softly to himself, his own cerulean gaze staring off into space, seeing some a distant memory rather than the faces of his teammates.  “It’s funny really, I always thought of them as just blue.  It wasn’t until I finally saw the sea that I truly understood their colour.  She like knowing that… that there’s something so beautiful and exotic about herself.” 

            As he spoke, he reached up and gently toyed with the small handwoven pouch which hung around his neck.  Normally covered by his uniform, hidden away from his captain’s sight, it now hung freely.  They were all out of uniform after all, so it seemed to be pointless to try to hide it.

“Ocean.”  Miguel mumbled, leaning back against the chair and picking his cup up off the table.  “There are no seas in Zaibach.  You saw the ocean.”  All the boys turned to look at the brunette, a few of them rolling their eyes over the interruption.

“What’s the difference?”  Shesta couldn’t help but ask, frowning thoughtfully.  The taller youth shrugged slightly.

“A sea has land on three sides, like the Inner Sea, or the Nostramo Sea.”

“He’s making it up.”  Viole snickered.  “There’s no difference.  Miguel just likes to sound smart.”

“It’s true dammit, maybe if you read a book every once in a while, rather than just gossiping like the housekeeping staff, you’d know a little bit more about our world.”

“Hey Miguel, better to be silent and thought wise than to open your mouth and remove all doubt.”  Glare met smirk as the two dragonslayers faced off but Gatti coughed loudly, grabbing both their attention.

“Gentlemen, might I remind you that we’re up after hours, out of uniform and drinking wine I stole at great risk to myself.  If we make too much noise, the Watch is going to catch us and report us to the Captain.  If that happens, it won’t matter at all if there’s a difference between a sea and an ocean, because we’ll be dead.  If you’re going to sacrifice us all, make it about something good.”

            “They’ll hold you to that.”  Shesta snickered softly then raised his cup to his lips, savouring the illicit wine with obvious delight.  “Besides, She’s my mom and it’s my description, so if I say her eyes are the colour of the sea after a storm, then that’s the colour they are.”

“Well, oceans and seas aside, you’re lucky.”  Guimel grumbled as he sipped at his cup of illicit wine, taking a moment to meet the eyes of the other five youth’s sitting on the floor around the table.  Aside from Gatti, they’ll all abandoned their comfortable chairs for the more intimate feel of the floor and were now happily sprawled out bonelessly, taking full advantage of their youthful flexibility.  “All I really remember of my mother was the back of her hand.”  Several of the dragonslayers patted him on his shoulders and offered their condolences to the smallest member of the team.  “You’re a useless runt.”  He sneered, mimicking a shrill falsetto voice.  “The best thing you can do for this family is die so we can be compensated for your waste of a life.”  Honestly, it’s like the woman couldn’t wait for me to die or something.  I could save the world and she’d still look at me like I was garbage.”

“Heh, I’ll swap you.”  Dallet grinned at them all.  “I’ll take verbal abuse over what I got any day of the week.  My mother used to throw knives at me.  If she was feeling nice, she’d even give me some warning.”

“Empty Fate Dallet,”  Viole shuddered in horror at the memory of the demon woman.  “No one wants your mother, she’s the most singularly terrifying woman in all of Zaibach.  Even dragons would run from her if they had any common sense.  Do you remember that time we were in Dondoro and she got into a knife fight with Lord Dilandau?  I seriously thought we were all going to die… or be court martialed.” Several of the assembled youths laughed at the memory of that wild and violent night, one of their first nights out as a team, all resplendent in their shining uniforms, proud of their accomplishments and utterly convinced that they were immortal.

“Oh please, you both spent the whole fight hiding under the table.”  Miguel scoffed, sipping his own wine delicately.

“Damn right I did!”  Dallet raised his cup in a salute, more than aware of how easily he could be killed.  It was a lesson which had been ruthlessly drilled into him since birth.  “And I stand by my actions.  If she’d seen me there, she’d have thrown me out a window or something.  “The wise warrior chooses their battles.”  He grinned wickedly at the taller brunette.  “If memory serves, you ended up getting ten stitches in your scalp when the bartender broke a bottle over your head, so fighting the good fight didn’t accomplish all that much towards establishing your legend.”  Several of the other youths laughed at that while Miguel rubbed the back of his head at the ignoble memory of his first bar brawl.

“Oh oh!  And THEN got an hour long lecture from Lord Dilandau about turning your back to an enemy.”

“She was the bartender!  NOT the enemy!”

“I don’t know, pretty sure she was trying to kill us with that crappy alcohol.”  Viole mused playfully.  “Besides, you didn’t see how upset the captain got when you went down.”

“Pretty sure that was because the bottle was still full.”  Gatti cut in dryly from his perch on the chair.  “But Dallet is right, his mother is likely the most horrifying woman in Zaibach.  How you ended up so even tempered is beyond me.”

“What about you Gatti?  Isn’t your mother some fancy general?”  Shesta asked, eager to turn the conversation away from the woman who’d frankly terrified him beyond reason.  The team’s second in command nodded his head and shrugged, as if it was nothing special.

“Brigadier General Bellavance, of the Twelfth Brigade, Copper Army.”  He replied, his tone lacking any sort of inflection one way or another regarding how he felt about it.  “My father and brothers all serve in the Twelfth.  Honestly, it was a relief to be admitted into this unit and be able to make my own way in life.”

“But, if you’d stayed in the Twelfth, you’d have likely been a captain yourself by now, or at least on the fast track to one.”  Guimel noted, not quite understanding why anyone would turn away a commission when it was so easily handed to them.  Again, Gatti simply shrugged.

“I want to do more with my life, prove that I’m more than just a carbon cut out of my family.  All my life, people have expected me to follow in their footsteps, to be another infantry drone.  Yes, I could have ranks handed to me, led men twice my age into battle based on the weight of my name alone, but I wouldn’t have earned any of it.  Lord Dilandau offered me a place on this team based on my own merit, not my name or the accomplishments of my family.  He’s the first person to ever do that.”

“I bet the chance to pilot guymelefs didn’t hurt either.”  Shesta grinned and the others all nodded their heads, grins spreading across their faces.  Even the normally stone faced Gatti cracked the faintest of smiles.

“I suppose that certainly added to the incentive.”  He agreed, reaching over to refill several cups he noticed were growing empty.  “What about you Miguel?  Any fond memories from home?”

“Yeah, didn’t you grow up in one of those remote ice villages North of the Capital?”  Viole nudged the slayer in question roughly enough to nearly slop some of the newly poured wine. 

“Careful!”  Miguel hissed, quickly gulping his wine before it could spill.  “If the Captain smells any wine, he’ll skin us all alive!” 

“It likely wouldn’t be the worst thing he’s ever done to someone.”  Guimel whispered his voice taking on a conspiratorial tone.  “Did you hear about Sergeant Andes?”  The dragonslayers all gave a collective shudder.

“They never proved that it was the Captain.”  Miguel hissed defensively, his pale eyes narrowing.  “It could have been a glitch that messed up his unit’s calibrations.”

“I heard that the pressure was so bad, that all his organs shot out of his body.”  Guimel continued, his voice a mix of awe and horror.  “Like he shat himself to death, and Anderi, that tech who works on Level four said that his eyes had popped out of his skull too!  They were just dangling on his cheeks!  The worse though was that he was still alive when they pulled him out.  I heard that he lived for nearly an hour like that, just twitching and moaning, all hollowed out…”

“Dammit Guimel!  We’re trying to drink here!”  Viole shot the curly haired slayer a glare of disgust.  “Stop sounding so impressed!”

“I heard that the Captain was there when they pulled him out.”  Ignoring the long haired dragonslayer’s outburst, Guimel continued his story.  “I heard that he just stared at the Sergeant like he was nothing.  Didn’t raise the alarm, didn’t call the medics.  He just watched him dying.”

“What did you want him to do?  Shove the bastard’s guts back in?  The medics were already on their way.  There was nothing he could have done.”  Miguel’s cup was slammed down on the tabletop much harder than necessary and Shesta jumped forward to save the bottle from falling over.  “Accidents happen, and Sergeant Andes always took shortcuts with his checks.  The odds just caught up with him.”

“Yeah… the odds and a certain albino.”

“Shut your damn mouth Guimel before I shut it for you!”

“Relax, both of you.”  Gatti cut in, his voice sharp enough to cut glass.  “I’m not boing to warn you again.  We’re here to relax and blow off a little steam.  That last mission took a lot out of us and the Captain noted that we’re still not acting like a smoothly running unit.  He wants us to get to know each other better, to relax around each other so that we’re a team rather than just soldiers.”

“No offence Gatti… but that doesn’t sound like something he’d say.”  Viole couldn’t quite keep from smirking.  “This IS the guy who sicked wild dogs on us.”

“Alright… his idea was to dump us all naked and unarmed in the middle of Zandalar forest with orders to survive for ten days.”

“Er… isn’t that forest infested with wyverns?”  Shesta squeaked, his already large eyes growing even wider.  “Not to mention rock scourges, giant bears and screech boars?”

“Exactly, so shut up and enjoy your wine.  You can thank me for talking him down later.”

“I love you Gatti, I take back every nasty thing I ever said about you.”  Dallet raised his glass to their second in command, the sentiment was shared by all.  “So… Miguel… your frozen hell of a village?”

“Nothing to tell really.”  The brunette grumbled, still more than a little annoyed at the dark turn of the conversation.  Pausing for a moment, he smiled slightly at a memory.  “I was the Mayor’s son, no brother’s at all, and one older sister who'd rather die than give me the time of day. I spent most of my life doing chores and trying not to freeze to death.  I did get to see the Captain once though.”  That caught everyone’s attention and he took a moment to pause for effect.  “It was a few years ago, I was twelve at the time and it was late fall, about a colour before the first real storms of the season were due in.

“Troops were always passing through, relieving the northern outposts every few colours.  This was the last one to go up before the weather made travel suicidal.”  He smiled at the memory and took another sip of his drink.

“There were always a hundred chores to do, each one urgent, especially with the coming winter, but I was so excited about seeing the soldiers.  I always was, but this time it was special.  I had plans to travel south to the Academy come spring and was crazy about anything to do with the military.  Mother tried to keep me away of course.  My older sister had enlisted with a bunch of her friends two years ago and they’d all died during a Daedelusian raid.  Our village lost nearly a whole generation that winter and no one wanted me to join them on the Paths of the Dead.  I suppose they weren’t really overreacting, there were only three of us kids left at that point.  Summer sickness had taken several of the babies, leaving us with the whole village pinning their hopes onto.

“When I heard about the troop bivouacking nearby, I snuck out to see them.  They were only staying for the night, just long enough to gather some supplies to take up with them.  Mostly shellfish and seal meat that my village specialized in preserving. 

“They were in the center of the village gathered round the commander who was barking out orders like his life depended on it.  All of them were in uniform, looking imposing and important as anything.  They seemed so huge, like giants out of some legend…except one… He was close to my age… maybe a little younger, but smaller, lighter in build and looked like a snow sculpture made into flesh.  I’d never seen an albino before.  None of us had, and everyone kept staring at him like idiots… even me.”  He smiled at the memory.  “I’d never seen anyone so strong and confident.  The other soldiers kept their distance, like they feared him or something and I wanted to go over and talk to him so badly… but I didn’t.  Even now, I wish I had.  I’d have sworn myself to him there and then if I could have, but Mother caught me and dragged me away by my ear before I could get up the courage to walk over.

“The last thing I remembered was him turning to glance in my direction, likely hearing the commotion.  I saw those brilliant red eyes, as bright as blood on snow and I swear they looked right through me.”  Miguel’s voice drifted off for a moment at the mental image before Shesta playfully nudged him back to reality.  “Ahem… er… yeah… well, that winter, the Daedalusians attacked, something that had never really happened before.  I mean, no sane person fought during the winter, it was suicidal.  They took out several outposts, Lord Dilandau’s included, but I heard that out of everyone, he alone survived.  He fought his way out of the outpost, leaving a trail of bodies in his wake, stole an alseides until out from under their nose and managed to cross the ice fields during a blizzard that would have killed lesser men.  When it froze solid and crashed, he finished the way on foot, all so he could alert the other outposts about the invasion.  He saved the Capital and was only eleven years old.  I wanted to be him so badly, that I packed up everything that spring and took the exam.  It was fate really.  That he was there scouting for a new team the same time I was there.  We were meant to be together.”

“Down boy.”  Dallet patted Miguel on the back with a chuckle.  “He’d eat you alive and you know it.  What about you Viole?  Any grand tales from your past?”  The long haired dragonslayer thought for a long moment, sipping his wine delicately.

“Not really.  My Aunt and Uncle owned a tavern in the Capital.  I lived with them and we did decently enough for a non-enlisted family.  Dad used to work as a tech in one of the factories, but there was an accident on the line, and he was killed.  I don’t remember much of him really.  Whenever I think about him, I just picture these huge calloused hands.  I used to always hold mine up to his and ask when I’d get bigger.  He’d smile and ruffle my hair telling me “Always in a hurry little Viole.  You’ll grow up when you’re ready.”  I can’t remember the colour of his eyes or his hair, but Aunt Rubie said that I didn’t look a think like him.  He was a bear of a man, half Egzardian I think. 

“Mom left me with her brother and enlisted.  She wanted to give me a better life, but she ended up dying in a border war with Basram ten years ago.  Uncle Rowan didn’t really have too much to do with me, he was always out doing something, so Aunt Rubie raised me herself.  They didn’t have any kids, so she sort of doted on me… it’s embarrassing really in retrospect, but at the time I just drank it up.  Course, once I grew out of the cute stage, that faded quickly and they put me to work in the tavern, just simple things really that a kid could do.  Wiping down tables and wheedling tips out of the patrons mostly, but as soon as I was old enough, they shipped me off the Academy as if I was some sort of war orphan.  It hurt… I mean, they were my family, and it felt like they were getting rid of me.  I cried for days like some sort of baby.  Not my proudest moment.”

“Bah, I think we all cried when we went to the Academy.”  Shesta smiled encouragingly, still toying with the bag around his neck.  “I know I did.  I’d never been away from my family and I was positive that I’d never see them again.  The whole village gathered to send me off, it took hours because they all wanted to give me some bit of advice or encouragement.  It was exhausting and stressful, but really sweet too, seeing how proud they all were.”

“I lied about my age to get into the Academy.”  Guimel chuckled.  “I couldn’t get away from my family fast enough.  Still, it’s nice to know that I already outrank all my brothers and sisters.  It almost makes it tempting to go home and force them all to salute me, but honestly, if I never see any of their faces again, it will be too soon.”

“You shouldn’t say that.”  Shesta admonished his teammate.  “Family is everything.  You might not always get along with them, but they’re still a part of you.”

“More like a growth you excise.  I’m better off without them.”  Bright blue eyes narrowed as Guimel glared at them all, daring them to argue with him.  No one did.  “What about the Captain?  Does anyone know if he has family?  Where did he come from?  He’s obviously from an influential family judging by his accent, even though he tries to hide it.  He even looks like some hero of legend.  I mean, no one should look that damn perfect.”

“He’s a war orphan.”  Dallet replied softly, topping off everyone’s cup with the last of the wine.  “Regis told me in a letter.  He’s sort of obsessed with the Captain… kind of creepy really.  Apparently, he was raised by a high ranking Madoushi, that’s why he speaks the way he does.  The captain is a prodigy and has been training all his life in the military.  He’s been enlisted since he was ten and was commanding soldiers when he was eleven.  I heard that he never even went to the Academy, that he had special tutors to train him and that he’s been fighting even before he enlisted.”

“No wonder he’s distant.”  Viole mused softly, speaking more to himself than the others.  “I can’t even imagine being in battle that young.  And raised by the Madoushi?  Ugh, they give me the creeps.  They’re terrifying.”

“Watch your mouth.”  Miguel cautioned him.  “They’re always listening.  Besides, there’s nothing wrong with the Captain.  He’s just… different.”

“Did you forget about the wild dogs?  I had nightmares for a week!”

“We know Viole.  We could hear you screaming about your jerky.”  Guimel snickered, finishing the last of his wine.  “Anyone know what we’re going to do with the bottle?  If the Captain see’s it, he’ll hang us off the catwalk by our intestines.”

“I’ll worry about the bottle.”  Gatti replied calmly.  “Just finish up, we have an early day tomorrow.”

“Ugh, when don’t we?”  Viole rolled his eyes dramatically, but obediently finished his drink, placing the empty cup on the table with exaggerated care.  “I hate being up before the sun.”  The others all echoed the sentiment except for Shesta who continued to stare thoughtfully into the dregs of his wine.

“I think we should be his family.”  He finally stated, earning confused looks from the others.  Glancing up, he offered them a slightly shy smile.  “The Captain.”  He clarified.  “All of us have these memories of family, for better or worse, they still help define us.  Families help you grow, they ground you and are a part of you.  If he doesn’t have one, we should become one for him.  Maybe that’s what we all need.  Not to be some cold unfeeling fighting unit like a big machine made up of little smaller machines, but instead, we become a unit, a family.”

“He’d never go for anything so… soft.”  Miguel warned, already knowing that the idea would receive nothing but a sneer and at best, a punch to the face for their audacity in implying he needed anything of the sort.

“I’m not saying we tell him.”  Shesta scoffed indignantly.  “I’m not stupid.  But we still act like it.  All the other units I talk to are all just waiting for their chance to move up in the ranks, even if it means cutting down the people ahead of them.  I think we should support each other.  Build each other up, bolster our strengths, fill in the gaps when one of us is weak, teach them, help us all grow.  I… I think in a weird way, that’s what the Captain was trying to teach us in our training.  Working together, depending on each other, helping each other to be stronger.  He saw it as a pack, but I think it’s a family.”

“It’s insane, but I like it.”  Viole agreed with a grin.  One by one, the other slayers nodded their heads while Gatti looked on in approval.

“Family.”  They all intoned.

“Till death do us part.”  Guimel grinned and Miguel shook his head.

“No.  If we do this, we do it all the way.  Together forever.”

“Forever.”  All six voices intoned together, sealing their destinies.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yes yes, I know that in the Dragon series, Dilandau mentions a few times that his perfect little Slayers would never break any of his rules or sneak alcohol into the barracks but hey, these are teenagers, they live for breaking the rules. The question is, does he know about this little clandestine party, or is he happily in denial?  
> A couple of my other short stories were referenced in this, and yes, this is before Miguel got up the courage to proposition Dilandau, so all he's got going at the moment are his hopes and dreams. He's so adorable.


End file.
